The Doctor's Author
by IHaveYouTilITearIan'sValues
Summary: A short story about what happened to the Doctor when a weeping angel sent him back in time to Victorian England.


The angels were ripping at the seams of the Doctor's tweed jacket. A flash of light shined in his light blue eyes, and time turned in the wrong direction. He never believed it to be possible, but another creature stole the Timelord's time. He eyes snapped shut and he felt a sharp wind and the creeping sensation of an oncoming migraine, both disappearing quickly.

"Where have I ended up now?" he groaned, rubbing his eyes. The Doctor found himself in Victorian England.

A silky unfamiliar voice called, "Doctor! What a timing you have!"

He turned around to see a small female around the age of 16 with raven hair, who was rather short. The top of her head could not even reach the doctor's shoulder. A navy dress with a loose corset adorned her bony figure.

"I am sorry, but I have not yet made your acquaintance," he said with a slight bow.

She laughed at him, saying, "Oh, how silly of me to forget. I have changed since the last time. You must remember your dearest cousin, do you not?"

"The Author?" he asked, recognition showing in his face.

She nodded. "You have changed as well, Doctor. I have never seen you so young. You're hair is black unlike the white I remember, and your face looks much like my father's if I must say. Your dress is also a bit peculiar. Is that a trench coat you are wearing?"

"What of it?"

"It does not adhere to the time. You know how the Timelords do not fancy us messing around here to begin with, and then you waltz around in attire from the twenty-first century? The Timelords are going to get rather upset."

"What do you mean, Author?"

"I do not understand your question. They are going to banish you! They will take away your TARDIS and you will be washed up here with me, dying of old age every millennium or so."

"Did they take away your ship?"

"She was a beauty, that one, but she was taken, Doctor."

"What did you do?"

"I was messing with time. There was this girl, a rather pretty one at that, who loved someone being burned for witchcraft. I sort of, what do the kids in the twenty-first century call it again? I 'shipped' them. They were perfect for each other you see, so I helped the witch escape."

"That does not seem that bad. How could it have such a drastic punishment?"

"Well you see, Doctor, one of the girls was the Virgin Queen." She shook her head and started giggling. The giggling turned into outright laughter. It grew uncontrollably and soon it morphed into tears. "Doctor, I want my ship back. The Timelords took my ship and dumped me here," she bawled.

Others took notice of the episode, looking at the girl in utter bemusement. A man with a remarkably trimmed mustache called at the Doctor, "What on Earth is this child doing, good sir?"

The Doctor pretended to find his cousin in tears to be a strange affair as well. "'Tis just a woman crazed with her hysteria, he said, mocking the other man's fancy manor.

"With her what?" he scoffed.

"A good learned fellow would know of such a thing," the Author cried. Tears clung to her pink cheeks, but she still managed to contort her voice into a mocking humor. "We see it in all women. We are such creatures of emotion, if I do say so myself."

 _I am unable to understand the likes of this generation, especially the women,_ the man thought as he turned away without another remark.

The Author turned to the Doctor. "I cannot understand the sexism of this time period. How does that response justify my reaction? It does not matter right now. Come with me. I have much to show you." She dug through her bag, grabbing a lovely bright blue cloth. She shoved the scarf in the Doctor's face. "Here, take this. It will be cold where we are going."

They hurried off to a place unusually cold. The Doctor could see his breath for clouds around his lips.

"It is cold because of the chemical reactions below our feet. I do not fancy getting technical, so I am just going to say there is basically a giant refrigerator underneath my home, but colder, stuffed with my favorite treats from Gallifrey. They gave me enough to last ten lifetimes, and it will not rot in here. The native microorganisms are disgusted by the stuff, and the Timelords added some ingredients to make sure they lasted. I am adding a heater next month because the cold has been getting far too much attention from the neighbors."

They stayed there for years, solving mysteries like the doctor always did, but this time, he took cases even from those who were native to this land, and were not strange or supernatural in anyway. Sir Doyle had heard of these two and wrote of them, changing the Author's gender to match the one deemed more acceptable to solving murders at the time.

Finally, it was 2010, and they had changed many times. The Author had grown distant from her cousin, and as her form changed last time away from her beloved family, her name changed into something she had heard when reading the book that told her story. The Doctor too changed his name to a name he had once heard in Sir Doyle's book. When the Doctor and the Author met again the Doctor did not recognize each other in the slightest. It was a warm sunny evening when the mustached Watson introduced the Author to the Doctor. "Sherlock," he said. "This is my wife, Mary."

Mary looked at the blue scarf loosely wrapped around the man's neck. "What a pleasure to make your acquaintance. How do you know each other? Was he a soldier in the army with you? Or perhaps another doctor?"


End file.
